The Cruise
by Shaneener
Summary: Jim and Pam win a cruise from a radio contest, although whether it turns out the way they both hope, neither are sure. AU Season Two. Mostly JAM.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Okay, well, I've finally decided to write another multi-chaptered story. (SHOCK AND AWE!) This time, it's AU. (AWE AND SHOCK!) And, it's ALL ABOUT J-hizzle and P-bizzle. Wow. I'm scaring myself a little bit.

Did I mention, for the first time, I'm ACTUALLY going to write a disclaimer? The thing is, I'm traveling in murky waters, so I'm going to cover my ass.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Office, NBC, or any of its affiliates. Jim, Pam, and any other recognizable settings or characters belong to NBC. I also do not own Carnival Cruise Line or any of its affiliates. The Carnival motto is copyrighted to Carnival Cruise Lines. I also do not own Rock 107 in Pennsylvania. I am not related or affiliated with anything at all. And, unfortunately, I am not making a cent from the writing or publishing of this story.

There! Now that THAT'S out of the way, I give you 'The Cruise'!

* * *

Jim Halpert was awakened at seven o'clock in the morning by his cell phone. Groggily, he rolled over, his eyes unfocused and crusted. He reached across his bed to his bedside table and grabbed his cell phone. The caller ID was an 800 number, so he ignored it and turned over.

Ten minutes later, it rang again. The polyphonic sequence of beeps trilled in his ear, screaming at him to answer the damn phone. His hand felt around his table blindly for a moment, before grabbing the offending object and putting it to his ear.

"Hello?" he mumbled, swearing if it was a telemarketer he was going to kill somebody.

"Jim Halpert?" the slick, male voice on the other end asked. Jim recognized the voice but couldn't place it.

"Uh, yeah. This is Jim." He sat up, now slightly awake.

The voice on the other end took a dramatic pause. "Jim Halpert, you are the lucky winner of… An all-expenses paid cruise, sponsored by Carnival! The Fun Ships. At any one moment, there are a million ways to have fun!"

The sleek product placement did nothing to clear Jim's confusion. "What?" he asked, dazed.

"This is Jim Halpert of Scranton, Pennsylvania, right?" Jim grunted a confirmation, and the voice continued. "We here at Rock 107 selected your name from thousands of submissions, and you've won a luxury cruise!"

Jim's mind went back three weeks prior, on a boring Thursday afternoon. He was sitting at his desk, typing an email to a client, when his inbox alerted him he'd just received and email from Pamela M. Beesly.

_Jim-- _

_Okay, I am SO going to win this radio contest. Rock 107 is hosting this contest where you have to create a jingle for them and you win a cruise to an undisclosed location! It has to be totally corny, and, seeing how together we are The King and Queen of Making Fun of Corny (or something like that), we could win!! But, could you help me? I mean, I totally can't win this without you. Help! Please?! Roy and I need a honeymoon STAT! _

_Your Queen, _

_Her Royal Highness, Pamela Beesly_

Jim had agreed, and they'd worked on it all day through email. The following day, they sent their lyrics to the correct address and hoped they'd win. Well, Pam hoped they'd win. Jim was just a little sick to his stomach thinking that he'd helped the woman he loved win a vacation for her and her fiancée.

Coming back to the present day, Jim let out a weak, "Awesome!" Not because he meant it, but because normal people are usually excited about winning a free trip. He gave the appropriate information to the radio station when he was transferred, and then was told he'd get an email with the flight and cruise information by the end of the day.

Jim hung up the phone in a daze. They'd won? Maybe he had a career in writing crappy jingles and slogans for radio stations. Couldn't be as boring as paper.

He ran his hand through his hair, and then grunted. It was almost seven-thirty, and he had to be at work in a half an hour. On auto pilot, he stumbled into his bathroom and took a quick shower. He was already slightly awake, and the cool water helped his eyes brighten and his responses sharpen, a sure sign he was conscious.

He exited the bathroom quickly, nodded at Mark's new girlfriend Mia on the couch, and then went to his room. His cell phone was blinking. Five missed calls, two new voice messages, and three new text messages. All from Pam.

The first text read, "OH MY GOD!!" The second read, "OH MY GOD!!" The third read, "OH MY GOD!! CALL ME!! NOW!!"

The first voice mail message was Pam screaming. The second was Pam demanding him call her. With a smile, Jim quickly dialed her number.

"JIM!" Jim laughed. It hadn't even rang. "Jim! We won! We won! Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Jim switched his phone to his other ear as he zipped up his pants. "Yes Pam, we did win. Good job."

He could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Shut up. We won! Aren't you happy? What'd they say? Where are we going? When is it? What should I pack? Are they paying for the flight, too? What cruise line? Do I need to get any shots? Do I need my passport? Oh my god! Is it Europe? The Mediterranean? Italy? It's Rome, huh? No, France! London! Belgium!"

"Woah, slow down there Beesly." Jim sat down on his bed and pulled on his socks. "I don't know anything yet. All they told me is that I won an all-expenses paid cruise on Carnival. The rest, I don't know."

Pam took a deep breath. "Okay, wow. This is just… I didn't really think we'd win! I read the other entries, and they were so cool… Wow! Wow!" Jim chuckled, straightening his tie. "Okay, I'm in the car. I'm pulling into the parking lot. Get to work, okay? We need to talk!"

"I'm getting in right now," Jim told her, unlocking his Honda. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Bye."

"I can't wait to tell Roy! Bye!"

Her last statement made Jim drop his keys. He had totally forgotten about Roy. He had won this for Pam, so she'd have a great honeymoon. With Roy. Her fiancée. Not him. Her best friend. Her _just _best friend.

Jim drove the 5.7 miles to work in silence. Not even the radio, which would normally be played The Who, Rolling Stones, or Death Cab, sat silent and unused. He pulled into the parking lot, turned off the ignition, opened his door, and got out like a zombie.

"Jim!" Jim looked up when he heard his name to see Pam running towards him from the elevator. "Jim!" She hugged him tightly, something they rarely did. "We're going on a cruise!"

Then, Pam realized what she was doing. She pulled away quickly, blushing, and Jim's face turned a little pink. "Uh, yeah. Awesome," he managed to say, still recovering from having her so close to him.

"So, I told Roy," Pam started, walking towards the elevator. "He's pumped. He heard Carnival has great casinos and stuff, which'll keep him busy. Then I called Rock 107 and confirmed me going. Which, I don't know if I needed to do, but they told me I'd get an email, too. Oh, and I called my mom and told her. She's so excited!" Pam beamed.

"Wow," Jim said, "You did all that in the ten minutes it took me to get here?"

Pam smiled. "Yep."

The next hour went by silently, only broken with Michael's grand entrance. Dwight, for once, was occupied with sales calls for an hour, which let Jim actually work.

"So," Pam started as Jim popped a jelly bean in his mouth, "I went on Carnival's website. A normal ship has like, three pools, a spa, a golf thing, an all-you-can-eat-buffet, five-star dining, 24-hour ice cream and pizza, a casino, a theatre with shows every night, a gift shop—"

"—which will no doubt be overpriced," Jim cut in.

"—and these cool foldable towel animals housekeeping makes for you when they clean your room," Pam finished.

"Wow." Jim popped in another jelly bean. "So, can you actually sleep? Are there places to sleep, or do you just curl up beneath the over-priced stuffed animals?"

Pam laughed. "I know, right? Seriously, these ships are like floating amusement parks. It's awesome."

Jim smiled. "I got an email." Pam's eyes stretched out three times their normal diameter. "Yeah," he said, "it was really interesting. And shocking. And…"

"And what?" Pam asked, her gaze boring into his skull. "What did it say? Oh my god."

"My mom told me IKEA was having a huge sale on comforters, and that I should check it out. Apparently, I need a new one. Which, I mean, I don't think is true. The one I have only slightly smells like wet dog."

Pam smacked him with her pen. "I hate you."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I don't know how I feel about this chapter... I wrote this pretty quickly. Like, five seconds after I wrote Chapter One. So, I don't know about it. But hey, if it's crap, I can just edit it later. (:

DISCLAIMER: Same thing as Chapter One, with a big ol' "Please don't sue me!!" added onto it.

* * *

_Pam—_

_If you email me one more time asking if I've heard from that radio station yet, I will call them and tell them I don't want it. I'll say Pam Beesly (the office mattress) is in love with none other than Dwight Kurt Schrute, Beet Farmer Extraordinaire. I'll tell them they have hot, kinky beet sex with only toys made from beets, and that she is pregnant with his children. They're expecting quintuplets, which they will add to their family of twelve children. They raise their children to be ninjas, and even the youngest can throw a ninja star like a pro. Pam spends her time making beet soup, beetloaf, beet pies, beetdogs, beet ice cream, and producing children. However, one of her children attacked me with a numchuck recently and I cannot go. Please give it away._

_Your Beet Child's Victim,_

_Fat Halpert_

Pam giggled as she re-read his email quickly. Jim could always make her laugh, even when she was having a crappy day. Like right now.

It was almost midnight, and Roy still wasn't home. He had told her he was going out with Darryl and some guys for a beer after work, but Pam was starting to worry. How long did it take to get a beer? One hour? Two? Three at the most?

It had been seven hours. Pam sighed, bringing her knees to her chest. She was at her desk, compulsively checking her email and reading all about Carnival cruises. Her work clothes were in her laundry basket, and she wore her favorite flannel pajamas.

She hit the 'reply' button and quickly wrote a response.

_Jim—_

_You _so _wish your children could attack people with numchucks. Besides, if I was with Dwight, you'd be with Angela. I can just see Mr. Angela Martin with his nineteen towheaded children walking to church in a straight line, then coming home to their forty-seven cats. I only have seventeen kids, and my home smells like fresh beets, not cat pee. So suck it._

_Your Beet Lady,_

_Mrs. Pamela Schrute_

_PS: I think I just threw up a little writing that!_

_PPS: And it's been four days since they called! I'm getting worried!!_

She clicked send before she could change her mind, and then went back to reading about Carnival's spa treatments. A few minutes later, her inbox alerted her she had a new email.

_Pam—_

_Excuse me, but Angela and I have only eighteen children, and we exactly 100 cats. All of our spawn are named after people or events in the Bible or famous Christian leaders. And our house smells like Righteousness._

_Your Bible Cat Guy,_

_Mr. Jim Halpert_

_PS: Wait… My name doesn't change when I marry. Oh well. _

Pam smiled, happy to see he was awake, too. At least someone was there to talk to her.

_Jim—_

_Sure. What're your kid's names? What're your cats' names? Hmmm? That's what I thought, Mr. Cat Pee Man._

_Your Beet-Smelling Housewife,_

_Pam-a-lam-a-ding-dong_

Suddenly, Pam heard some noise outside her apartment. Cautiously, she tiptoed to the living room and peered out to the driveway. There, she saw three big men stumbling towards her door. She froze, wishing Roy were here. Or Jim. She was in her flannel PJs with three big, burly guys she didn't know coming to her house after midnight.

"Pam!" she heard a voice call. Pam looked through the peephole and instantly recognized Roy, Darryl, and Phil from the warehouse. Relieved, she opened the door a crack.

"Hey Pammy," Roy said, his words slurred. She noticed how he was leaning on Darryl for support, and how his eyes were extremely red. "We're gonna hang out here tonight."

"No, you're not," she said, glaring at the drunken man. "Where've you been?"

He waved his hand, unconcerned. "Out," he answered.

"Out," Pam repeated, her voice developing and edge. "Out where?"

"Hey Pam," Darryl cut in, "we went out for some beers and forgot the time. It won't happen again." He unhooked Roy's arm from around his shoulders and held him steady. "Sorry, Phil and I gotta go."

Pam nodded as they walked away, and then turned her attention to her fiancée. "Come in." She opened the door wider, and Roy stumbled in, crashing on the couch.

"I'm tired," he declared drunkenly. Pam scowled.

"Roy, do you have any idea how worried I was?" she asked, sitting down on a nearby chair. "It's past midnight and you're just getting home. Couldn't you have called? If you were going to stay out late, you could've at least told me. I was about to call the police!" She sighed and ran her fingers through her loose curls. "I mean, what's going to happen when we're on the cruise? What if you don't make it on the boat? Huh? What's going to happen then?"

Roy covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, okay?" he responded, not sounding the least bit sorry. "We lost track of time."

Pam snorted. "Sure. Whatever."

"Yeah sure," Roy bellowed, sitting up. Pam recoiled a bit on instinct. "Just fucking trust me, Pam. I'm not going to do anything. I'm a big boy, got it? Don't be so damn worried all the time. Let me do my own thing."

Pam hung her head, deciding to be defeated. "Sure. Okay. I did worry too much. But call me, okay? I got scared. I didn't know where you were."

Roy nodded, his eyelids drooping. Pam gingerly touched his cheek, and he smiled, then got up and went to the bedroom.

Pam turned back to her computer. A window quickly popped up, telling her she had a new email.

_Pam—_

_Alright, fine. Here are their names, in order from oldest to youngest:_

_John, Paul, Luke, Rebekah, Charity, Constance, Matthew, Hannah, Sarah, Prudence, Mark, Noah, Moses, Nathan, James, Abraham, Benjamin, and Joseph._

_And our cat's names are (in no particular order):_

_Sparky, Sunshine, Angel, Chico, Kitty, Joy, Kissy, Choo Choo, Ash, Daisy, Rose, Geranium, Delilah, Broccoli, Streamer, Confetti, Gummy Bear, Nutcracker, Christmas, Easter, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, Lent, and Jeremy. _

_The rest are all named Sprinkles, with numbers corresponding to when we got them. For example, Sprinkles 35 is the 35__th__ cat we got that we named Sprinkles._

_Your Awesome Cat and Kid Namer,_

_Jimmy Boy_

She shook her head, surprised at the great lengths Jim went to carry out a joke. She felt a little smug that he always went to far lengths to make her laugh. Not Katy, but her.

_Jim—_

_Wow. You have way to much time on your hands. Anyway, when were you planning on telling me this, huh? Pretty big secret to keep from your best friend._

_Your Offended Beet-Smelling, Ninja-Star Throwing Best Friend,_

_Pamela Morgan Beesly_

This time, Pam didn't even have time to read about Carnival's shiatsu massage when Jim's email came.

_Pam—_

_I was planning to tell you Friday, but now the surprise is ruined. I had a cake and confetti and a stripper gram and everything. Oh well. _

_Your Awesome Naming Best Friend,_

_James Daniel Halpert_

Nest Friday. Next Friday was Casino Night, Michael's spring fundraiser. When Pam had heard the theme a week ago, she had liked it. Which scared her just a tiny bit.

_Jim—_

_A stripper gram? Now I am disappointed. And anyway, next Friday's Casino Night. I'm wearing this dress I wore to my roommate's wedding. It's blue and shiny and fancy. And I got this pretty clip, so I'm going to do my hair up all pretty. Okay. Girl moment over. Anyway, why are you up so late?_

_Your Curious, Girly Friend,_

_P-Beez_

_Pam—_

_I'm up late because the radio station is taking forever to email me the details, and I have a certain friend who won't stop bugging me about it. And that dress sounds cute. Wow, that sounds really gay._

_Your Possible Bi-Curious Friend, _

_J-Halp_

_PS: Your rapper name is way cooler than mine._

_Jim—_

_Maybe we should call Dwight. I'm sure he wouldn't mind a threesome. Get Angela into it, too._

_Your Perverted Best Friend,_

_Peesly_

Pam stared at her computer screen. She couldn't believe she just wrote that. However, instead of hitting the backspace button, she accidentally hit 'send'.

"Shit!" she whispered, watching the little envelope icon fly into the pixilated mailbox.

_Pam—_

_Woah there, Kinky Beesly. I don't know about you, but Dwight and Angela foursomes aren't at the top of my To-Do List. I have 'Stab Myself Repeatedly in the Eye with a Rusty Fork' before that. But hey, after I do that, sure._

_Your Equally (if not more so) Perverted Friend,_

_Jalpert._

Pam blushed. Leave it to Jim to take the awkwardness out of a situation.

_Jim—_

_Ha ha. Funny. Anyway, is it dorky for me to be excited about Casino Night? I really can't wait to show you my Poker skills. And I gotta practice for the ship! I'm going on a cruise!!_

_Your Excited Friend,_

_Kinky Beesly_

_Pam—_

_Yes Pam, you ARE going on a cruise. Great that you've joined us here on Earth._

_Your Friend,_

_Jim_

Pam lifted her eyebrow, confused. Jim's last email was more nasty than teasing. What had she said?

Just as she was about to write an apology email, a new message appeared from Jim, forwarded from what looked like Rock 107's corporate email address.

_Dear Mr. James Halpert and Ms. Pamela Beesly,_

_You have won Rock 107's 'Jingle, Cruise, Rock!' contest, and have won an all-expenses paid cruise on Carnival cruise lines to the Southern Caribbean! Attached is your cruise tickets and information. Rock 107 had paid and booked your cruise tickets, and they are nonrefundable and nontransferable. They are in your name, so no one else may use your tickets. Rock 107 is not liable for any sudden changes in cruise status, or any lost, stolen, or broken items. You hereby release Rock 107 from any liability at all concerning your flight, cruise, belongings, or person. Any excursions you must pay for yourself, along with all food and drinks. You must also book and pay for your own flight. Rock 107 will only pay for food and beverages from the cruise ship's restaurant and 'Lido Deck', not including drinks from the bar. If a cruise is cancelled, Rock 107 will pay for a different one within 48 hours._

_Have fun!_

Pam reread the email two more times. She was going to the Southern Caribbean. With Jim. Not Roy.

"Crap."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm leaving for Iowa for two weeks (of all the places to hold a family reunion... No offence to any Iowans!) and I thought you'd all waited long enough. Again, I don't really like this chapter, but I just need to get them on the damn boat!

Disclaimer: Same as Chapter Numero Uno.

* * *

The Monday before Casino Night went just like any other day. Pam played Solitaire and pretended to work, Jim annoyed Dwight, and Michael held a conference about whether he and Jan were meant to be.

Jim leaned back in his chair, and turned towards Pam. She was concentrating on her computer screen, and by the way her hand was moving, he guesses she was playing Spider Solitaire. He got up and wandered towards reception.

"Aren't you happy I taught you?" he asked, leaning over the counter. Pam gave him a distracted "Yeah", and then brought a two up to a three. Jim laughed.

Just as he was about to give a teasing reply, Roy came in. Pam looked up, surprised to see him. Roy nodded at Jim, and Jim went back to his desk. He never really liked to be around Roy. Maybe, if he wasn't dating Pam, they could've been friends. Or maybe not.

"Hey," Pam said softly, "What're you doing here?"

Roy looked around suspiciously. "Can… Can I talk to you for a second?" He motioned toward the door, and the two exited quickly. Jim watched them go, and he wasn't the only one. Angela shook her head, as if what they were doing was sinful.

"You went in my email?!"

Jim looked up, hearing Pam's voice from outside the door. He turned back to his computer quickly, but a few moment's later he heard Roy's angry voice.

"Well, I really don't want my fiancée going off on a cruise with some guy. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?"

"So what're you saying?"

There was a pause, and Jim looked towards the door. He could just make out Pam's curly hair and the outline of Roy's shoulder.

"I'm saying you shouldn't go."

"What?!"

"Pam, listen to me, okay? I thought it'd be cool for us to get away, but there's no way in hell I'm letting you go with Halpert somewhere. I see the way he looks at you, Pam."

Jim looked up to see Phyllis's eyes on him, and he blushed. He had thought Roy was dense enough not to notice anything between them. Maybe he had misjudged him.

"Jim and I are just friends. I've told you a thousand times."

They were just friends, and it killed him. Especially when she said it.

There was indistinct murmuring for awhile, and then the door opened. Jim saw Pam sit down at her desk, wiping tears from her eyes. Jim turned back to his Solitaire game.

An hour later, Jim went to get a soda. Sitting in the break room was Pam, fiddling with her ring, an unopened can of Coke next to her.

"Hey," Jim said, sitting down across from her. She smiled weakly.

"Hey."

Jim took a sip of his grape soda. "So, uh, I kind of overheard what was going on…" He paused, embarrassed. Pam looked down at the table, and he instantly regretted bringing it up.

"Oh." Pam fingered the diamond on her engagement ring. "Yeah, that wasn't a big deal. We just had an argument."

"Yeah. I heard. Everyone heard." Pam blushed. There was an awkward pause before Jim asked, "So, are you going?"

Pam studied the snack machine for a long time, her eyes slowly filling with tears. When she looked back at Jim, she didn't have to anything.

"Damn it Pam," Jim muttered. "Just, stand up for something, okay?"

"It's none of your business!" Pam snapped. Jim knew he'd hit a raw spot, but he continued anyway.

"Yeah, it is my business when this has been going on for five years. You can't just sit back and let someone else live your life, Pam! You're not a puppet."

Pam stood up then, fuming. "Jim, you don't know anything! I'm fine with my relationship. I'm fine with my life. I'm happy."

Jim ran his fingers through his hair, his green eyes locked on her brown ones. "Really? You're happy being a receptionist in the middle of nowhere with no end in sight?"

Tears began to roll down Pam's cheeks. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice quiet.

"Yeah, I do." Jim stood up then, towering over her. "When's the last time you made your own decision, huh? When's the last time you said 'no'? When's the last time you stood up for something, Pam?" Pam looked down at the floor, and Jim stood a little straighter. "That graphic design internship is gone now, Pam. You could've done so well. You're so amazing, but you never…"

Pam looked up at him, her hazel eyes meeting his emerald ones. "I'm not the only one, Jim. Why are you still in this dead-end job that you hate?"

Jim sunk to his chair and studied his hands. He knew why he was here. Because of her. Because he was so sure he'd never see her again, and that was enough to kill him. Even if she would never be with him, it was still better to se her everyday than be away.

After a moment, he looked up. "I don't know."

"I don't know, either."

He watched her walk away, and he wasn't sure if she didn't know why he was still here, or why she was.

--

Pam went home early that day, and Jim was feeling extra crappy when his computer alerted him he had a new email.

_Jim:_

_I've talked to Josh over in Stamford, and he said he needed a new Assistant Regional Manager. I told him about you, and he seemed interested. I sent him the paperwork you filled out at my office. It's a big pay increase and better benefits. If you're interested, email me back._

_Signed,_

_Jan Levinson_

Jim looked at Pam's empty desk, with her jar of jelly beans and sticky notes. He looked back at his computer screen and hit reply.

_I'd love to talk to him. It sounds like a great job._

_Jim Halpert_


End file.
